"Second," Alix went on. "After myself, my husband and Gray hold authority, in that order, and then the brigadier. I
would expect directions from any of them to be taken as if coming from me."
"I do not question that," William said. "However, may I assume that, wherever possible, decisions regarding myself would be made by joint consensus—that I would be allowed to give my opinion before a decision is made? In support of this, I point out that if I had not argued with Gray, we would not now be having this discussion, since neither of us would have reached this conclusion on our own."
"A point well taken," Alix agreed. "However, I reserve the right to be arbitrary if I feel the occasion warrants it. I would expect, for example, that if you have been told to sit still and do and say nothing, you would do precisely that. I would not expect another repeat of Buckland."
"No harm was done—"
""Fortunately not," Alix said firmly. "However, that result can hardly be attributed to anything but fool's luck. You know very little as yet. You—or Ciray—might not be so lucky next time. It could have been very dangerous."
William bowed his head, but Graham could sense the thin edge of resistance in the set of his hands on the chair arms.
"I apologize—to both of you. It will not happen again."
"Very well." She glanced at Graham, then returned her attention to the prince. "There is one other thing of which you should be aware before you make any further commitment. I doubt that even Gray has told you this."
The prince's eyes flicked to Graham in question, but Graham only shrugged.
"Your offer of assistance has come as no great surprise, at least to me, even though none of us knew the form it would take. It has been foretold in the cards for several weeks now. I suspect that may have been at least one factor in Gray's decision to let you come to Buckland with him. Am I right. Gray?"
Graham sighed and gave a curt nod.
"Your precise role has not been clear," Alix went on, "and still is not, but there is little doubt that you are fated to be involved in what is unfolding. The question now is to what extent?"
With a nervous gesture, William reached into his coat for a cigarette, glancing at Graham.
"You never said anything about cards, Gray. What is she talking about?"
"The tarot cards," Graham replied. "An ancient form of divination. Modem playing cards derive from them. One asks a question while shuffling the deck, then lays out a certain number of cards in one of several patterns. Different positions represent different aspects of the answer—time factors, persons involved, strong and weak points "
While he explained, Alix had brought out her deck and fanned it face up, selecting some of the cards that had appeared in previous readings. When he had finished, she reviewed a few of their names and meanings. William studied the Knight of Wands the longest, shaking his head as she buried it in the deck and began gathering them up.
"I'm sorry if I appear skeptical," he said, flicking ash into an ash tray, "but—fortune telling, for God's sake! It just seems so—so medieval!"
"With respect, sir, your very title is medieval," Alix purred. "Does that make it suspect?"
Graham suppressed a grimace, half expecting a royal explosion, but to his surprise, William merely grinned.
''Touche, madame. But really—"
As he gestured with his cigarette, Alix slapped the deck down in front of him with a smile that cut him off in mid-sentence. Graham knew the expression well and almost pitied William for his naivete. Alix would pull no tricks out of hats or cards out of packs, but the challenge had been offered. Graham had no doubt the cards would respond.
"Go ahead and shuffle them," Alix said, watching the prince with faint amusement. "I'll never touch them, nor will Gray. I think the question in all of our minds is clear enough, but concentrate on it, anyway, as you handle the cards. Gray, may I see you a moment?"
While William shuffled the cards, she drew Graham off to one side, her eyes never leaving the prince.
"He has pluck, you must admit," she murmured. "I suspected, after Buckland, but this is rare."
"Yes, and he could get himself and all the rest of us into very rare trouble," Graham replied.
"I can't argue that. Something about it feels all right, however. Probably akin to the feeling you had when you agreed to let him watch you scry. Let's see how he responds to a card reading—and what the cards say. If you're still adamantly against it afterwards, I'll say no, but there's a reason he's been led to make the offer he has. I think he understands the risks, and I think they may be acceptable."
Graham shook his head. "As you said, Alix, it's your decision. The very thought scares me silly—for the King's sake, if not any of our own—but if you think it's worth the risk—"
"It may be," she said, leading him back to the table. "That's all I've said so far."
William was still shuffling the cards, though his eyes had never left the two of them while they whispered together. As Alix sat, he placed the shuffled deck precisely in front of her. His glance at Graham, settling on his other side, was unreadable.
"So," said Alix, "are you satisfied that the cards have in no way been manipulated?"
"Yes."
"Bearing in mind that there are seventy-eight cards in this deck, would you agree that the chances are very slim that any of the cards I pointed out before would show up in the first ten cards after a random cut?—the Knight of Wands, for example, since we've identified that as your card in previous readings."
William smiled nervously and nodded. "That sounds fairly remote."
"Let me ask you this, then," she continued. "I have no more idea than you just what cards are going to come up for us this afternoon, but are you willing to at least listen to my interpretation even if it seems medieval? Keep in mind that Gray knows the cards, even though you do not, and will try to see them in their most unconvincing light, since he does not want to believe that you should become more fully involved."
The prince glanced at Graham. "Is this true?"
At Graham's nod, William allowed himself a reluctant shrug.
"Such enthusiasm," Alix murmured. "But no matter. The cards don't mind whether you believe in them or not. Would you cut the deck, please?"
With a puff on his cigarette, William reached across and picked up half the deck, which he set to one side.
"Thank you. Now, without turning the cards over, I'd like you to lay out the first ten in the pattern I'll show you. I won't touch them, because I want you to be certain that I've not influenced the outcome in any way. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
As William began laying out the cards, Graham rubbed both hands across his face and tried to clear his mind. He was not really certain he wanted to see what the cards had in store for him and William this time, but Alix was giving neither of them any choice. When William had finished the spread and laid the rest of the cards aside, Alix pointed at the traditional first card, lying in the center of the cross-design and underneath another.
"The first card represents the underlying factor of the situation—what covers it, as we say. Would you turn it up, please?—from the side, so that you don't affect the orientation of the card."
As William obeyed and Graham saw the card's face, he could only sigh and rest his head on his hands. How had she done that? It was the Knight of Wands.
William's jaw dropped in amazement.
"Isn't that—?"
Alix nodded matter-of-facdy. 'The Knight of Wands: a young man offering assistance. Even more apt now, in light of your Garter proposition. You are the underlying factor in the question you have asked, to no one's great surprise, I think—though Gray is clearly dismayed that this same card has shown up in all three readings—aren't you, Gray?"
Graham only shook his head. "I'm not going to fight it anymore, Alix. Do you want me to concede now or later?"
As she smiled in answer, William eyed the other cards a little suspiciously.
>
"What else?"
"Turn the next card and see," Alix said, pointing to the one lying perpendicular to the upturned knight.
He did.
"Crossing for better or worse, the King of Wands," Alix said. "Excellent leadership possibilities. It appears the knight may be due for a promotion. Here I would say it refers to your prospective role as a representative of the King, as Howard and Hatton were. Whether or not this is a good thing remains to be seen from the rest of the cards. Turn the one at the lower arm of the cross next, please."
"You go ahead," William said uneasily. "I'll concede that you couldn't have done anything to the cards. I don't think I want to touch them anymore."
"Very well." She turned the next card with a smile. "At the root of the situation is the Two of Wands. It is a card of endeavor and partnership—perhaps a bit more formal a partnership than that indicated by the Three of Wands, which Gray and I have seen before, concerning the Knight of Wands. In this case, it is probably your actual offer of assistance, as opposed to the potential, which we saw before.
"At the left arm of the cross, what is passing." She turned the card. "The Two of Coins. Trying to cope with two situations and still maintain harmony. To be involved or not to be involved. We have all had questions on that score in the past, but this is passing away."
Graham saw her glance at the prince as she turned the next card, but William did not seem to notice. His eyes were riveted on the cards, intrigued.
"At the crown: the Tower, Reversed—what could come into being. The process of change has begun, though it is still within your power to stop it. Here I would say it represents your tentative commitment to us. You have stsuted changing, accepting that something is happening beyond your present understanding, but we have not yet given our consent for this to go on."
She turned the next card. "What is coming into being—the Three of Cups. This is generally a hospitality card, a sign of congeniality. It also indicates metaphysical interests and things lying beneath the surface. Under the circumstances, I would say it probably refers to the gathering you propose. If so, I would say it could have a favorable outcome. Gray, do you agree?"
Graham nodded sullenly. As before, if he had not known better, he would have had to say that Alix had rigged the cards; and as before, he knew there was no way she could have done so.
"Top card in the sceptre," she said. "Judgment, Reversed. This position represents negative feelings about the prospect at hand: an uneasiness about some aspects of what you are getting into, a fear that you may, indeed, be judged harshly for becoming involved with forces outside your understanding—the niggling fear that we may not be as we have said. But in your environment"—she turned the next card with a coy smile— "is the Magus, the Magician. In this position, 1 believe it speaks for itself. You are surrounded by magi, and will be, increasingly, if you continue on your present course."
"You and Gray?" the prince asked.
"And others, met and unmet," Alix answered with a smile. She turned the next card and froze for just an instant. It was nothing William noticed, but Graham saw it and peered at the card more closely as Alix continued to speak. It was only the Six of Cups—a good card as far as he knew.
"The Six of Cups," Alix said. *The position indicates positive influences." She pursed her lips. "The Six of Cups usually represents happiness coming from the past, sometimes an inheritance. In your case, I would say it probably has to do with the ties you are discovering with the old ways—perhaps the ancient Garter connections. And finally"—she turned the last card—"what will come: the Hanged Man."
She paused just a beat, and Graham was sure something was wrong.
"The Hanged Man is a card of psychic awareness, of new and innovative ideas, of getting in touch with higher wisdom," she said neutrally—which Graham knew was true, but the card could be read with far more negative connections as well. "I'd say you're already getting a taste of all of that—and will get more, if you help us gather the grand coven. You do seem to be involved with us."
She scanned the overall spread a final time, nodding to herself, then scooped up the cards and returned them to the rest of the deck, making a show of jogging the edges against the table top. She did not look at Graham. William appeared to be bewildered.
"Well, Gray?" Alix asked.
Chapter 13
GRAHAM RUBBED AT A FAINT STUBBLE OF BEARD WITH one hand and tried to read more meaning behind Alix's reaction. She had cut the reading short. Though she had given William a positive interpretation of the final card, she had seen something else as well; Graham preferred not to ask in front of William. He was not certain whether it had to do with the question at hand or something else, and she was giving him no clues.
"I suppose it could work," he said tentatively.
"And?"
He shrugged, resentful that she would not give him more to go on. "You've talked to more of our reluctant magi than I have. Do you think the risk is acceptable?"
"Yes."
The monosyllable was as neutral as he had ever heard, and conveyed so little of her inner state that he still was not certain how she felt about the question. He assumed that she was basically in favor of taking William into their confidence and accepting his help; otherwise, she would not have admonished him as she had or allowed the circumstances to be explored further. But in case he might have misinterpreted, he tried to offer her a last, graceful way out, if she wanted it.
"I won't oppose it, then. Don't you think you ought to check with Dame Emma before giving a final, answer, though?"
"I'll call on her later in the week. She isn't on the telephone, so I can't ring her. I doubt she'll have any objections, however, if that's what you want."
Again, the neutral answer, putting the responsibility squarely back on him. But even if he agreed, that would not close the option of having Dame Emma back out, he suddenly realized. She had given him an out as well. With that meager reassurance, he glanced at the prince and nodded.
"Very well. You've heard the discussion. You can't say you haven't been adequately warned. Provided Dame Emma agrees and you still want to do it after all of this, you're on. Are you satisfied now?"
As he leaned back and crossed his arms in disapproval, William managed a weak smile.
"As someone said a short while ago, *Such enthusiasm.' However, if the two of you were trying to frighten me off, you haven't succeeded. I know it's dangerous. I never pretended otherwise. But since we've all finally admitted that, I think it's time we settled down and did some serious planning. Now: whom did you want invited to my little soirees?"
Their main list presented no difficulty, Alix had put it together weeks before. It needed only a plausible set of war activities appended to provide cover justifications if anyone should ask. Two more lists took rather more time to compile, but they were done with the same meticulous attention to detail. Site and time determinations were hashed out over sandwiches and tea as the evening wore on. They also spent nearly an hour on the wording of the invitations that would go out under the arms of H.R.H. The Duke of Clarence. A hall clock struck eleven as they finished up.
"I should think that ought to do it for now," Alix said, delicately covering a yawn and stretching stiffly. "I do need to check with Dame Emma before the invitations are sent out. Also, I'd like to cover a few more things with Gray in private tonight. Do you mind staying over, sir?" she asked William. "It's dreadfully late to be starting back for London. I've already had rooms made up."
William stubbed out the last of his current cigarette and glanced at his watch, shaking his head as he blew out smoke.
"I shouldn't, really. I have an early engagement tomorrow."
"How early?" Graham asked.
"Ten o'clock, as I recall. At least it's in London, not out in the country somewhere. However, I'd have to drop you off and stop at the Palace to change and collect my aide by eight at the latest. It would mean an awfully early start. Still, I shouldn't want to leave you stran
ded if you and Lady Selwyn have further business."
Graham shot a quick look at Alix. She had given no further indication of undue concern while they plotted their strategy, but nor was eleven o'clock an hour to be beginning a casual chat, especially with William in the house. What was it she wanted? Something about the cards, perhaps?
As his eyes flicked minutely from her face to the deck still lying by her elbow, then back again, she nodded casually. It might only have been agreement with the prince's last words.
"I'll ask cook to do breakfast at six," she said, rising to press a call button beside the fireplace. "If you leave by seven, you should easily be able to meet a ten o'clock appointment. David has made the run in far less time, and there's very little traffic with the war on."
William shrugged, apparently unconcerned after her reassurance.
"Very well, then. Thank you. I'll need to ring London and tell them not to expect me, however. Where is the telephone?"
"Jennings will show you," she replied as a knock at the door heralded the appearance of the butler. "Jennings, His Royal Highness is staying the night. Please take him to the telephone and then show him to his room and see to whatever he needs. You may retire after that. I shan't need you anymore tonight."
"Very good, my lady. This way, sir, if you please."
With murmured good nights all around, William went out with Jennings. As soon as the door closed behind them, Alix breathed a long sigh. Graham gazed across at her in annoyance.
"Will you please tell me what's going on? First you hedge the end of a reading in ways that make no sense to me; then you let me tell him that we'll use his plan even though we all know how dangerous it is. Then you practically shanghai him into staying the night. Is something very wrong or very right?"
She took a cigarette from a box on the mantel and lit it with a hand that shook slightly. She almost never smoked.
"I don't know yet," she said, sitting again. "I can't put my finger on it. That's why I asked you to stay."